


When did my life become a bad Leonardo DiCaprio movie?

by BillieBleu



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Cheeky, M/M, Titanic References, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21917536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillieBleu/pseuds/BillieBleu
Summary: Robbe doesn’t know how Sander talked him into posing for him. And yet here they are. But Robbe won’t forfeit here.Or the story of - how and why could I possibly write something like that? I blushed the whole time I was writing. Don’t hate it, please.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 6
Kudos: 237





	When did my life become a bad Leonardo DiCaprio movie?

Robbe was trying to figure out a way to control his blushing. At this point, he was pretty sure it was spreading over his entire body. His entire naked body. Sat on his bed. Currently scrutinized by Sander’s green green eyes. His gaze alternating from Robbe to the sketchbook he had in hand. His long fingers expertly guiding his pencil, tracing lines and curves and edges. And Robbe was starting to wonder when exactly his life had started resembling a bad Leonardo DiCaprio movie. Was it simply when he fell head over heels for an artist? Or was that time he saw Sander painting a nude model foreshadowing? Was he supposed to expect this moment? Because he sure hadn’t.

“You shouldn’t blush,” Sander said in a quiet, serious voice. “You’re the most beautiful thing I have seen in my entire life.”

Part of Robbe was swooning, but externally he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“But don’t move,” Sander ordered, trying to keep a straight face, and failing. 

Robbe saw the corner of his mouth curl into the beginning of a smile and somehow that helped him focus and readjust his position. Sander was playing it professional, and technically he was the one in control of the whole situation, but it now appeared that at least part of him was as flustered by the whole thing as his boyfriend was.

Robbe spent the next few seconds acting serious, but really pondering how he could turn Sander’s unsteady calm to his advantage. Why should he be the only one blushing after all? 

Finally he figured it out. He did exactly what Sander had done just moments before, let his lips curl into the faintest trace of a smile. Once he thought he had done a fairly good job of it and could manage to keep it up for a while, he proceeded to look. At the start of all this, Sander had told him to look in his general direction, without more specificity. So Robbe decided to look directly at him. Not a vague, “gazing into nothingness” look. A look that had been thought-through, that knew exactly where it was going. He first focused on Sander’s eyes, and the slight frown on his focused face. And then he moved on to his white white hair, before he lowered his gaze to Sander’s lips, slowly. Remained long seconds there. He didn’t realize it but focusing on something else had stopped his blushing. His mind all into the task at hand. He kept on exploring, admiring, marveling at Sander’s gorgeous features, before letting his gaze fall lower.

He’d felt so self-conscious about the situation from the beginning, not really knowing how Sander had managed to talk him into this, that he’d forgotten Sander himself wasn’t wearing more than his underwear right now. He was reminded of this as his eyes followed the delicate lines of his arms, of Sander’s expert fingers moving quickly over the sketchbook. His chest, falling and rising with each breath. Robbe never knew someone could look so strong and fragile at the same time, so confident and breakable. He never knew all of him could trust someone so completely. Could leave all his fortunes at his feet and never doubt that it would be treated with nothing but absolute devotion. Yet, there he was.

He looked some more. Sander sat on his desk chair, his long legs, both feet firmly on the ground, when Robbe - although he would never admit it himself - was so often on tip-toes when they were together. One needing a firm ground while the other needed the confidence to reach for the stars.

Lost in admiration, Robbe took his time, making his way back up towards Sander’s face. Still smiling that non-smile. As his eyes looked up towards his boyfriend’s face though, they were met by Sander’s own, water color eyes looking back at him. He wasn’t drawing anymore. 

“Stop it,” Sander said. 

Robbe raised an innocent eyebrow. By then, Sander’s mouth had opened slightly, and Robbe thought he could see a faint blush on his cheeks and neck. Still, Sander managed to say: “Whatever you’re doing. I’m trying to work.” Trying. Right. Robbe knew then he’d not only turned the situation to his advantage, he’d won.

“What?” he insisted, his mouth widening into a half-innocent half-mischievous smile.

At that, Sander, looking exasperated one second, and cheeky the next, let his sketchbook and pencil drop to the ground. And in one smooth move, he crossed the distance between the chair and the bed, and then between himself and Robbe. His breath was slightly shaky as he put a hand on Robbe’s neck and brought him in for a kiss.


End file.
